


what i have, i give to you

by aatticsaltt



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Mess, Precious Peter Parker, Sick Peter Parker, Sickfic, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Loves Peter Parker, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, in the sense someone is sick and feels Miserable
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:49:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24192373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aatticsaltt/pseuds/aatticsaltt
Summary: Tony would give everything to Peter Parker, if he asked for it. When May calls telling Tony she thinks Peter isn't feeling well, he drops everything to go check up on his favorite spider kid.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 23
Kudos: 355





	what i have, i give to you

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote a [drabble](https://aatticsaltt.tumblr.com/post/618133888722780160/the-formatting-keeps-messing-up-so-reposting) on tumblr and just wanted to expand it a little
> 
> so here we are!
> 
> enjoy! :D

" _Boss, you have an incoming call from May Parker._ "

Tony looked up from where he'd been working on the latest StarkPhone. It wasn't often that May Parker deigned to call. Usually it was Tony calling to either apologize for Peter's reckless behavior or to find some sympathy in someone who was also having to deal with the spitfire that was Peter Benjamin Parker on the daily.

God, he adored the kid, but Peter was bullheaded, reckless, stubborn, and absolutely the best thing this world had to give.

"Answer," Tony said. The screen in front of him lit up with the call, showing the goofy contact photo May had sent him of her and Peter making faces at the camera. Tony focused on Peter's face and ignored the burning in his throat. "Hello, Mrs Parker. Everything alright?"

" _Hey Tony,_ " May greeted. " _Are you busy?_ "

Tony glanced at the piles of paperwork on the side of his desk and all the pieces of the broken-apart StarkPhone. Then back up to Peter's face.

"Nah," he said. "What's up?"

" _I'm a little worried about Peter. His room is messy, and he wasn't up by the time I left. Usually he's up by ten, at least, even on late nights, just to say bye. But he hasn't even texted me today. I'd go home early, but, well, I can't take anymore time off._ "

FRIDAY pulled up last night's report from Peter's suit in response to Tony's suddenly twitchy fingers. The only thing that was abnormal was his temperature was point three degrees higher than it normally was, but that was nothing to be concerned about. In fact, it was _good,_ in Tony's book. Peter tended to run cold due to his spider-genes, and Helen and Tony were still working out a solution to keep his temperature more regulated.

Tony sighed through his nose. "Well, his vitals looked normal last night. He didn't mention anything weird happening?"

" _No. I went back over the footage from his patrol before I called you. The most exciting part of his night was getting to pet a cat._ "

An unwarranted smile found his face. Peter's unending love wasn't contained to only humans. Once the poor kid had nearly cried over a baby bird falling from a tree when learning how to fly even though the bird was just fine. He would've loved to pet a cat; Tony can just imagine his excited coos as he stroked the feline's back.

"I bet he loved that," he said.

" _Oh, absolutely._ " May laughed, but sobered fast. " _I think he might just be sick, but I won't be home until late tonight to help take care of him._ _I hate to ask this of you, but do you think—_ "

With a wave of his hand, all the work files on his screens closed. A slideshow of photos became the screensaver, flickering between photos of Pepper, Rhodey, Happy, and Peter. He was on his feet a moment later, heading towards the elevator.

"Don't even worry about it, May. I'll go check on him."

" _Thank you,_ _Tony._ "

"Anytime."

The phone call ended when Tony stepped into the elevator. He started to say garage before he thought twice and commanded, "Penthouse." The elevator rose two floors and let Tony off in the living room of their penthouse. Pepper was sitting in the living room, legs tucked up to her side with a horrendous stack of papers balanced on a clipboard on her knee. Their eyes met, and Pepper smiled.

"Finish early?"

"Something like that," Tony said. He pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, once he reached her, then straightened back up. "Are you up to making some soup?"

* * *

Peter felt awful.

Awful to the point his brain was probably leaking out of his ears. Peter felt like some vengeful spirit had doused him in kerosene and tossed him into the deepest, fiery pits of hell to watch him writhe in discomfort and laugh. Peter has had nosebleeds every half hour from how dry his nose was after sneezing out his lungs, and had thrown up pure mucus at least once now.

Maybe twice. He couldn't keep track. Thinking took too much energy, and any thought he managed to catch hold of was soupy and slipped through his mental grasp faster than he could make sense of the swirling numbers and words.

Peter had felt a little off last night, just a little too warm, but he'd figured all he needed was a goodnight sleep. He'd been stressing over finals for the past few weeks and had only yesterday finished with the last final of his sophomore year. So he'd gone home earlier than he normally would on a Friday night and climbed right into bed.

Then he woke up on fire and had staggered to the bathroom to hurl up his guts.

The nausea had, thankfully, since passed. Peter still felt miserable enough to make up for the lack of. He curled up under his mound of blankets a little more, wishing that, if he was small enough, the illness couldn't find him and would stop pushing sheer agony through him.

A tear rolled over the bridge of his nose and dampened his pillow. Peter let out a low, pitiful whine, wishing May was here to kiss away the hurt.

“Jesus, kid, you’re a wreck.”

Peter pealed an eye open (only one, because two was far too much effort) to see who was at the door and daring to interrupt his _I’m so sick I’m crying_ cry. Tony was standing in the doorway with a wry smile and a big, fancy bowl that was way too expensive-looking to be anything Peter or May owned.

“Thanks,” Peter croaked. “Just what I wanted to hear.”

Tony huffed a soft laugh. Peter closed his eye again, miffed he was being laughed at. How dare Tony? Right when Peter was feeling so terrible! The _mutiny_. He'd complain, had he the energy to complain. 

All he could manage was a tiny, "Rude," before another wheezing-cough tore out of him. Two more pained, tired tears slipped out of his eyes. Peter could hear the short-lived humor drain out of his mentor with a heavy sigh. Tony shuffled his way through the mounds of clothes and papers on the floor, only there because Peter's inherent messiness grows exponentially when he didn't feel well, whether he noticed or not. May has always used his room cleanliness as her personal Peter-Wellness-Radar.

He must've messed up his room more than he thought when he went shuffling through his room in the early morning for blankets. May must've noticed and called Tony. Peter remembered, vague and hazy as his memory was at the moment, May saying something about working a double today.

She always looked after him. Another tear fell, and Peter muffled the sob into his snotty tissue.

An object clinked down on his nightstand. Peter figured, by the heavenly smell managing to work its way into his stuffed-up nose, it was the bowl which had to be full of chicken noodle soup. Pepper must've made it, because it smelled heavenly and both Peter and Tony know the man can't cook. Peter wished he had the strength to sit up and eat it, but he couldn't even seem to open his eyes anymore, crusted shut by tears and other nastiness.

The bed bowed next to Peter with a new weight, and a familiar hand brushed through his matted hair. Peter's lip wobbled fiercely. "Your aunt called," Tony said. "Said something about a messy room and a certain Spider-Baby not feeling too good."

“I feel like shit, Mr. Stark."

“Woah! Bringing out the big boy words.” Tony twirled one of Peter’s more stubborn curls around his finger and scratched blunt nails along his scalp. Tingles shot down Peter's spine at the pleasant sensation. “You really must be down in the dumps if you’re over here swearing at me."

Peter giggled but it quickly became another coughing fit. The hand abandoned his hair, and Peter managed to find the strength to open his eyes and whine petulantly at his mentor. Tony bit back an obvious smile and was quick to readjust Peter to a sitting position, strong hands guiding him and his extended blanket family to prop him comfortably against the wall.

There was a familiar worry on Tony's face as he fretted over Peter. A familiar crinkle at the corner of his eyes. In the part of his brain that wasn't shut down due to a raging fever, Peter thought it was look similar to the one he'd seen a million times over on Ben's face. The look Ben got, no matter how many times Peter’d caught a cold.

A spoon was shortly nudged against his mouth and Peter blinked at the offending silverware. "Eat," Tony demanded.

“Pushy,” Peter grumbled around the spoon.

The soup tasted as amazing as it smelled. After eating, Peter was decently sure Tony had _some_ hand in making it, though not much. They'd been trying out this special protein powder Peter could put into any food. It was tasteless and odorless, but it actually allowed Peter to be satisfied after a regular sized meal, rather than having to way overeat by non-enhanced standards.

Tony spent hours working on synthesizing a formula even though he'd admitted several times over chemistry wasn't his strong suit. Peter knew they hadn't even _finished_ the formula the last time he'd worked at the compound, so that means at some point Tony had spent some extra time working on the project and finishing it for Peter just so he could eat normally again.

When Peter began to cry again, overwhelmed by how much love his mentor gave to him, Tony huffed.

“Alright, alright,” Tony said. “Seeing you cry is unnerving, kiddo. You got stabbed and didn’t even shed a tear.”

“Sorry,” Peter said and sniffled again, disgusted with the amount of snot in his nose. “I just really love you, Mr. Stark.”

Tony’s smile wavered. His nose twitched with a soundless sniff, and he looked away, staring out Peter’s bedroom window. It was the brightest spot in the room, and Peter knew enough of trying not to cry to see it in someone else. _Stare at the light, it eases the burn._

After a moment’s pause, Tony shook his head and finally looked back to Peter, eyes dry.

“I love you too, kid.” Tony waved a hand at the space next to Peter. “Move over. I’m gonna sit there.”

“There’s plenty of room on the other side,” Peter grumbled even as he inched over to allow Tony plenty of room to sit.

“Well, I want that spot, bud. It’s my spot, I chose it, I want it.” The man kicked off his shoes, and settled into the warm spot Peter left for him on the bed. “Why are you scooting so far away? Get back here.”

Peter squawked when Tony wrapped an arm around his shoulders and yanked him down, but was sure not to protest when he was settled against a broad chest with a steady heart beating beneath his ear. Tony’s free hand cupped the back of his head, keeping him secure.

“This is what… people do, when they love each other, right?” Tony asked. “Risk getting sick with spider-kid germs because you're a little cuddle monster?”

“Right,” Peter confirmed. He paused, smiled for the first time since he woke up, then said, “Thank you, Mr. Stark… for coming.”

It might have been his imagination, but he thought, for the briefest of moments, a pair of lips brushed against the crown of his head before quickly retreating. “Anytime, kid.”

**Author's Note:**

> dad snuggles make everything better. tony definitely gets sick afterwards, but its worth it bc peter. thats it, just because peter. he loves his boy so much, help him.
> 
> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://aatticsaltt.tumblr.com/). I mean, if you want.


End file.
